You’re most all I think about once the sun dips beyond that illustrious horizon (it’s always nighttime somewhere)

True love is admitting things most raw and ugly
while simultaneously holding eye contact
even through tears
especially through embarrassment
It’s support in the face of realityand support in the face of fantasy
It’s unwavering intimacy;
even in public
even in the rain
especially behind closed doors
It’s allowing one another to be small and vulnerable
picking up pieces
even the tiniest of fragments
especially when it doesn’t benefit you directly
It’s absolute trust and sheer faith
transparency when all you want to be is opaque
It’s a profound itch to conform to one another’s desires
even if they seem surface level insignificant
especially if they generate physical reaction
True love is being told it is so
True love is seeing a break and rather than mending it
it’s declaring its beauty
True love is depth, width and length
For without depth you can have neither width
nor
length
But if I’m being honest,
without depth
what is the point of